


First Cuddles (Because They've Had Enough Blood)

by hisfreckleswerestars



Series: Season 12 Codas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Whole Lotta It, Angst, Bisexual Dean, Canon Compliant, Coda, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode: s12e09 First Blood, Fluff, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Platonic Cuddling, Prayer, References to torture and violence, Though Not Necessarily in a Sex Way, Touch-Starved, angst turned fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9536327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisfreckleswerestars/pseuds/hisfreckleswerestars
Summary: Being locked-up in an area 51 style jail for more than six weeks without any human interaction would make you just the tiniest bit touch-starved. Once they’re rescued and finally make it back to the Bunker, Sam and Dean can’t seem to keep their hands off their angel.





	1. The actual episode but with more Destiel

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING(S): Flashbacks to torture, angst
> 
> I tried writing Wincestial, but the Destiel overtook me. Side warning; this got progressively worse as I got more tired
> 
> If you haven’t picked up on it, there are spoilers for the most recent episode, 12.09, and the previous seasons. Also, the fluff and cuddles occur next chapter; there’s only angst and pining in this one.

Dean had been to hell. Hell was bright, and bloody, and oh so very loud. And, here, there was nothing but the quiet whir of air vents and soft flicker and hum of the florescent lighting.

Torture, he could take. The harsh, cold, twist of a knife through his skin, slick with his blood as its pulled out. He’d laid on Alastair’s rack and been beaten, burned, and whipped. His mouth would grow hoarse from screaming. Sometimes they would break every bone of his body and then, after his body knit itself together, they would do it again the next day. It was painful, and it was real.

But, here, time didn’t seem to pass. He could grow old and die in this tiny cell without ever seeing another human soul. Without seeing Sam, or Cas, or Mary - or their few friends still alive - ever again. The silence was maddening, and he could feel a tiny part of himself break with each passing day.

Camp's words cycled in his head, “ _But after a month, a year, you spend enough time staring at these walls, just you and all that nothing, you'll get so crazy to talk, to see someone real, you'll tell me exactly what I need_.”

He passed the time by creating a routine, of sorts. His body would wake up early in the morning, and he would put himself out of his creaky bed and over to the toilet. He’d do his business and shave a bit of stubble of his chin. His breakfast plate would arrive soon after. He dug into meal.

Dean would celebrate making it another day by scratching out a tally mark on the wall. Watching the marks slowly add up, reminding him that his torture was not infinite, was the only thing keeping him sane. Well, that, and his prayers to Cas.

When he first sent out his thoughts to his angel, he couldn’t stop the way of guilt that had washed over him. Because talking to Cas, when the angel couldn’t say anything back and didn’t have anyway of rescuing him, was downright cruel. And, yet, he managed to convince himself that it was somehow a relief for Cas.

So, late in night, he finished off his dinner - a plate of mystery meat, corn, potatoes and juice box. Sure, he would’ve rather had a nice plate of apple pie, but as last meals go, it wasn’t too bad. Then, Dean sat on the edge of his bed and closed his eyes.

 _Hey, uh, Cas. I hope you’re doing alright. Please know that this isn’t your fault and I don’t in any way blame you._ He hesitated for a moment before continuing. _And, uh, you probably won’t have to worry for much longer. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I might’ve found a way to get out of here. So, if everything works out, which it rarely does, uh expect me to contact you in some way. Well, bye, angel._ He ended the call, abruptly, unable to continue.

A plan had started to unfold in his mind a few days earlier. It was stupid, and it was reckless, and it was a Winchester plan if there ever was one.

Dean had cheated death more times then he could count. He’d actually _killed_ Death. And, a small part of him had thought there wouldn’t ever be an end, that him and Sam and Cas would be hunting and saving the world until they made it to their eighties. He’d believed they were always be able to outrace death. But this plan… there would be no coming back from it. Dean would die, and Sam and Cas would be sad, but they would eventually be alright. And Mary, yeah she would be sad. Who wouldn’t after losing their child? But she would get better too, and maybe go off and hunt without Dean holding her back. And, so, ultimately, all of them would be better off without him.

“ _Praecerpens messor aristas sint animae subiacet voluntati_ ,” he whispered, his voice raw after such a long period of disuse. “Billie.”

He opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of a familiar reaper standing before him. He was momentarily stunned into silence, surprised to see someone’s face after almost six weeks of no interaction.

“Hi Dean. Nice place.” She commented curtly. “I don’t suppose you’ve summoned me to finally reap your soul.”

“Actually, yes, I have,” he said, straight to the point. Death was not something to skirt around. “I’m ready to stop running.”

\---

Things happened quickly after that. Billie visited Sam and told him of the deal. Both him and Dean sealed it with Blood Magic. She then returned back to Dean’s cell and did her fancy voodoo spell. He dropped to the floor and sunk into sleep.

He awoke was a large gasp of air, coughing and wheezing at the name time.

Dean didn’t remember much of the time between him passing out and him waking up in the morgue. He knew that he hadn’t _really_ died; he’d just been stuck in limbo between life and death. He knew that it was quiet. Not the restless, agitated, quiet of his jail cell, but something peaceful and tranquil, that promised relief. He was almost disappointed when he woke up.

The disappoint was soon replaced by joy, however, when he looked over at his brother. Sam’s hair had grown out a little bit, and his face was a little dirty, but it was still the same Sammy he’d last seen a few weeks ago.

Dean flashed him a quick smile, and Sam gave him a smile of his own, a careless, lighthearted, one that made Dean more happy than he could put into words. It meant he and Sam had gotten out of their cells without breaking.

Footsteps approaching and they sprung into action. The coroner was unprepared for them. When he entered the room, they made quick work of disabling him. The guy told Sam all he knew (which wasn’t much) while Dean swiped his phone. They left him in one of the morgue fridges and made their way outside.

Dean pulled out the phone that he had taken from the coroner and typed in a familiar number. It reached his friend’s voicemail. He couldn’t even spare a laugh at the odd wording, _This is my voice mail. Make your voice a mail._

“Hey, should be take it?” Sam asked, pointing out one of their top-secret military trucks, and momentarily taking his attention away from the phone.

“Nah, it’s probably got lojack,” he told his brother.

He anxiously watched the phone ring. “C’mon Cas.” His hope started to ebb away as more time passed without Cas answering. Logically, he should call someone else. He had Mary’s, Jody’s, and a few other hunter’s numbers memorized. But, right now, the only thing he needed in the world was to hear his angel’s voice. And maybe see Cas’ face before the end of the night; his final night.

“Got a map,” Sam added.

Dean let out a sigh of relief when Cas finally picked up. “What?” Castiel asked grouchily.

“Cas?” He couldn’t help exclaiming.

“Dean?” Castiel asked. Dean could hear the hopeful tone in his voice, along with a million other emotions behind it. They could probably create an entire language just in the way they said each other’s names.

Dean kept his voice steady to keep from breaking down. “Hey, buddy. Long time.” He winced a tiny bit at his phrasing. Why did he still call Cas ‘buddy’ and ‘man?’

“What- what happened? Where... where are you?” Cas asked, quickly and rushed.

“You wouldn't believe me, and I have no clue, uh-” He paused for a second, looking over at Sam who was studying the map like it was his Stanford final.

“Got something,” Sam cut in. “Alright, looks like that's Elk Mountain, which makes that Longs Peak.”

Dean returned his attention back to Cas. “Okay, looks like we're in Colorado.”

“In Rocky Mountain National Park,” Sam added. “Uh, if we head north, we should hit State Route 34. Eventually.”

“Did you get that?” Dean asked Cas.

“Yes.”

"Alright, meet us there,” Dean told him, ready to end the call.

“Wait, where?” Cas asked, sounding just as confused as he’d been at the beginning of the call.

“Just drive along the road and you'll see us. And Cas, the sooner the better. We're kinda on the clock here.”

“Wait, what does that-” Cas was cut off when Dean ended the call.

“You didn't tell him?” Sam asked quizzingly.

“No. They'll track the phone,” He lied, unable to tell Sam the real reason he’d kept their reaper deal a secret.

\---

It was easily enough to take down the one soldier. They leapt from the tree and Sam held onto his neck while Dean disarmed him. They answered the head-honcho and tried to scare him off. It didn’t work, not that Dean had expected it to, but it was worth a shot.

\---

They set traps and quickly got rid of the army. It was as easy as pie.

\---

Dean and Sam lumbered through the woods.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice gasp out “Sam. Dean.” And the figure was turning around and it was his angel and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

“Cas,” he and Sam exclaimed in surprise and relief.

Sam stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the angel, pulling him close. Dean tapped down the surge of jealously that Sam could give himself over so freely, that he could feel so easily.

His brother’s head snapped up, and he let go of Cas, springing over to their mother to tackle her in a hug. “Mom”

Dean moved forward in Sam’s place, giving himself a second to breathe as Cas brought his arms around him. “Hey buddy,” he mumbled against his angel’s ear. Cas was here and safe, and Dean just barely stopped himself from sinking into his arms. He glanced over at Mary, not quite able to look Cas in the eye. Because then Cas would know. He would know that the reason Dean was even here at all was because he made a deal with Billie, a reaper. Dean would be dead by midnight, and didn’t want the last few hours of his life to be filled with Cas looking at him in pity and anger.

So, he forced himself to step away from his angel, giving him an awkward pat on the back. He gave his mom a hug after Sam stepped away from her. Mary’s touch was reassuring and motherly, and he clung on to her in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to do with Cas.

The quartet made their way back to Mary’s car. The asshat Brits were there waiting for them. Dean scowled throughout their conversation as the group relayed their information about the rescue. Finally, they were gone. Dean was a little disappointed to not be able to see his baby once more before he died, but he supposed that one last car ride with the people he loved most in the world wasn’t a bad compromise.

Sam automatically opened the door for the backseat, prepared to give Dean the passenger seat with Mary driving. Dean stopped him. “Nah, Sam, you can ride shotgun. I’ll stay back here.”

His brother looked at him, quizzically, but then, when he saw Cas getting in on the other side, his gaze cleared. “ _Ohh_ ,” he said, a bit too loudly for Dean’s taste. “I get it. Sure, I’ll sit up front.”

\---

A few minutes in, the radio flickers to life and the headlights flash, the car pulling to a stop.

“It’s time,” Sam muttered.

He reached and took Cas’s hand - one last bit of touch - as his angel turned toward him with wide eyes, silently asking him what was going on. The moment where Cas understood - understood the deal and that he was going to die - hurt more than he’d anticipated. He gripped Cas’s hand tightly, once, before letting go and getting out of the car. The rest of the Winchesters followed numbly.


	2. Angst and a Minute Amount of Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's angst. Like loads of it. And maybe a tiny bit of fluff. But what about Supernatural is ever happy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING(S): Minute references to sex, mentions of past Dean/Other(s), more angst than anticipated
> 
> I finished it. And, geez, writing is difficult. I had a set way I wanted it written, but my brain just decided to throw in some sadness for Dean, so sorry if it doesn't quite match up with the summary. There's cuddles at the end; I promise.

Dean was angry. No, scrap that, he was livid. Sure, he hadn’t really wanted to die this night, but Cas stepping in and killing Billie was downright reckless. Who knew what the consequences of killing a Reaper would be? Maybe they would send down another Reaper to dish out some law, to kill Cas.

Sure, he and Sam could’ve been classified as having overly attached, codependent tendencies - _hell_ , how many times had he sacrifices himself for his brother? - but killing a Reaper was _different_. That was stupid, rash, and a _Winchester_ move. Wow, Cas was officially one of them.

“I have some food,” Mary entered their motel room with a bag in each hand.

Mary had driven for about two hours before stopping at a greasy, low cost motel. Dean had wanted to continue onto The Bunker, to just get _home_ , but he’d reluctantly agreed that they couldn’t drive for six more hours - in the dark - after the night they’d had.

They got two, double bed, rooms. One that Mary and Sam could share, and one for him and Cas, because he didn’t want to let his angel out of his sight. And, sure, Cas didn’t need to sleep, so it was kind of a waste of money, but he hadn’t wanted the guy at the counter to get the wrong impression about them by getting a single bed.

Currently, they were hanging out in Dean and Cas’s room. Mary passed everyone a burger from the drivethrough up the street. Hell, even McDonald’s was an upgrade from what he’d been eating.

Cas accepted the burger, but, after biting into it, gave it a glare like it had personally offended him. Dean smiled for one of the first time in weeks. Sam consumed his with gusto, despite having said before that he would never touch fast food ever again. Mary ate hers with indifference, but smiled at eat of her boys in turn, happy to have them alive. They didn’t make much discussion, as exhausted as they were.

Sam and Mary slipped out after cleaning up, and soon it was just him and Cas.

“Look, Cas, everything will be okay, alright?” He told his friend as soon as they had left.

Cas didn’t respond. He was probably blaming himself for everything that had happened. Dean was so tired and he honestly couldn’t deal with this right now. “Cas, this is not your fault,” he said, jabbing a thumb at him. “Now I’m gonna go to bed, and you’re going to stop hating yourself and we can talk more when I’m not so tired.”

He laid down in the old and uncomfortable bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes. His mind was a mess, thinking about the events of the day. Finally, everything quieted down enough for him to slip off to sleep, feeling safe with his angel watching over him.

\---

The ride back to Kansas was short. Sam asked Mary and Cas about the hunting that they had been doing. Dean’s heart broke a little more once he learned that Cas hadn’t been able to hunt because he’d been so worried about him and Sam. He tuned out their conversation after that, instead looking out the window and watching the world go by. It hadn’t changed much, despite how much he’d changed. It was still bright and crowded, while Dean was empty and broken. Or had he always been that?

They got burgers again - from a nicer place this time - and made their way to the Bunker. They ate their lunch at a jarringly familiar table, and it almost felt like everything was back in place again. Everyone’s silence told a different story.

The day passed quicker - or slower? - then it had in his cell.They finished lunch. Mary and Sam cleaned up. They watched a movie together in the living room, for some bit of normality. Sam and Cas cuddled a bit, holding onto each other, which was sweet and definitely did not stir up feelings of jealousy. Dean smiled a bit from Mary’s amazed reactions about the movie, but a few hours later he couldn’t have told you what it was about. 

\---

Dean said a tired goodbye to his family before going to bed for the night. He completed his routine - changing his clothes, brushing his teeth - mindlessly. He was just about to slid under his covers and disappear forever, when he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he called out, perching on his bed.

Cas entered the room, looking at ruffled as ever, with his hair in a mess and tie askew. “Mary just wanted me to let you know that Sam found a case for us. We’ll leave in the morning, a little after twelve.”

“Is that it?” Dean asked, and, _god_ , why was he being such an asshole.

“Um, yes.” His friend said, looking a bit lost. He then turned around and started to leave Dean’s bedroom.

“Cas, wait,” he implored suddenly.

His friend fixed him with a curious, blue-eyed, gaze.

Dean hesitated for a moment, recognizing that if he went on their friendship would never be the same. “C-can I hold you?” He asked, sounding only the tiniest bit broken.

Cas blinked owlishly in surprise. Then, a small smile spread across his face.

“Okay,” he said decidedly. He closed the door softly behind him and made his way to the edge of the bed. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, before Dean scooted over and patted the spot next to him. Cas sat on the edge of the bed and was about to scooch back against the headboard when Dean stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Uh, Cas, maybe you should shrug off a few layers?” He gestured at Cas’s heavy trench coat. “I’m not sayin’ you should strip to your underwear, but maybe take off your coat and tie so, like, you don’t get overheated.”

“Good advice, Dean,” Cas answered in his deep, rumbly, voice that would do things to Dean if he wasn’t so tired.

He toed out of his shoes and socks, and Dean had to fend off how it made his heart hurt, because it made Cas look so, _utterly_ , human. His friend shrugged out of his trench coat, next, and placed it on the back of the chair in the far corner. Dean looked at the chair with a small smile. Back when Cas had still been a fearless angel of the lord, he’d sat in the chair and watched him as he’d slept, making sure he was okay. Then, Cas undid his striped blue tie and tugged off his black jacket, standing only in a white button up and slacks. And, yep, his thoughts were now on a totally different wavelength.

Dean coughed lightly. “Uh, well, come to bed.” His face heated up when he realized the other way that line could be processed.

Thankfully, Cas didn’t pick up on it, instead making his way over the Dean’s side. He flopped down on the bed, bouncing a little. Cas looked at him with too-blue eyes. “So… you said you wanted to hold me?”

Dean only paused momentarily, before opening his arms with a small smile. “Come in here, angel.”

Cas snuggled into his side, his scruff brushing against Dean’s cheek. He shifted so that his messy black locks were tucked under Dean’s chin. Dean finally let out a breath that he’d been holding for who knows how long. Since six weeks ago, since Purgatory, since _hell_? He hadn’t felt so safe and wanted for so long.

He had screwed a lot of girls. And, even a few guys, though with them he was usually on the receiving end. But they were simply bar hookups, lust giving out over love. And - Cassie - he’d given his heart to that girl and she’d returned it in pieces. Carmen wasn’t even real. Jo had died because of him. Lisa, oh _Lisa_ , that had been a good thing while it lasted. But, like seemingly every event in his life, it had ended in heartbreak.

And so he hadn’t had much of a chance for cuddles. Him and Lisa used to hold each other after some exhausting sex, legs wrapped around one another. They would sleep next to each other, him spooning her. But that was years ago. Every good thing in his life had ended.

Except… it hadn’t. Sam was here. Mary was here. _Cas_ was here. They hadn’t left him. Just yesterday, Cas had killed a Reaper - for him, for the Winchesters, he was willing to suffer the consequences. And what would those conseq- 

No. He wasn’t going to think about that now.

Cas and him shifted downward, now lying flat on the bed, instead of clinging onto each other against the headboard. Dean wrapped his arms around his angel. He slipped his hands under Cas’s shirt and held onto his waist with strong hands. It wasn’t for any sexual reasons; it was an anchor telling him that, yes, this was real.

Cas swung a leg over his. They just laid there for a few minutes, legs tangled together, arms around one another, breathing in each other’s scent.

“I’m not angel,” his friend said after what felt like an eternity and seconds all at once.

Dean let out a quiet laugh. “You’re not?” He asked, his voice muffled from where his mouth was pressed into Cas’s soft hair.

“Not now,” Cas told him, his tone taking on a sad edge. “After Lady Toni used that angel sigil to banish me back to heaven, and I felt back to Earth-”

_To rescue us_ , his brain supplied.

“-my angelic powers were drained. I have no wings, so no teleportation or time travel. I still have a fair amount of my powers, but I’ve been cut off from Heaven for a while now. It’s just… without my wings, my full powers, I felt - feel - helpless. You and Sam were in there for six weeks, and you only got out by making a deal with a Reaper.”

“Cas, there’s nothing you could’ve done. It was a top secret government facility. And, well, look on the bright side, Sam and I are here now.” Dean told him reassuringly.

Cas looked up at him, a silent _but for how long?_ in his eyes.

Dean held onto him tighter, hoping that his touch conveyed all the things he was too scared to say. Cas just about fell into his touch, getting the message.

Before either of them could say anything else, the bedroom door opened.

His brother entered his bedroom, dressed in only a light t-shirt and his boxers. “Dean, can-” Sam stopped once he saw Dean and Cas curled up together on the bed. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean - I’ll leave.” He stuttered, barging backward and almost tripping over his feet.

“No. Sam, stay,” Dean told him.

Sam paused in thought, biting his lip as he considered his brother’s offer. “No; I shouldn’t. You’re obviously busy-”

“Sam, we can make room,” Cas said, lifting his head to peer at Sam. “We were only cuddling; you can join us.” Dean felt his ears redden when Cas said they were cuddling, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Well… okay,” Sam said decisively. He made his way over as Dean moved further to the edge of the mattress, Cas crowding in close to his side. His angel rested his head against Dean’s chest, and Dean felt his warm breath against his ear. 

Sam laid down on the other side of Cas. Cas’s head fit into the crook of his neck. He swung a leg over Cas’s and reached his arm across the angel’s bare stomach. Dean covered his brother’s hand with his own. They both left out a relieved sigh, comforted with the gentle reassurance that holding hands brought them.

Cas was the first was to slip off into sleep. He snuggled into Dean’s side and brought a hand up to grasp theirs. Dean gave his forehead a gentle peck. His angel’s breathing was slow and steady, and the gentle beat caused Dean’s eyelids to start drooping as yawn sweep through him. Sam’s grip on his hand kept him centered, and their feet touched over Cas’s stomach.

“I love you,” he muttered sleepily as a welcomed darkness swamped his senses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment some ideas for a one-shot and I'll write it if it sounds interesting. Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
